Curtain Call
by ThoughtCriminal
Summary: Another pairing of my favorite witch and elf Rachel/Trent . Takes place after ODW at the winter solstice.


WARNING! CONTAINS ODW SPOILERS

**Beyond this Place there be Major Spoilers…**

The solstice was definitely my favorite holiday, and working security at Takata's solstice concert made it all the better. Although, admittedly it wasn't as awesome as last year since I had discovered Takata was my father, and it's kind of difficult to get star-struck around your own dad. But Ivy, Jenks, and I had practically the best seats in the house and full backstage access. Plus we were getting paid the big bucks just to check for a few simple spells, keep the occasional spastic fan in-line, or escort the more inebriated solstice celebrators out of the amphitheatre. And I had yet another awesome staff shirt from the tour. So all-and-all, it promised to be a fantastic night.

"Rache," Jenks said, buzzing up suddenly to land on one of my oversized earrings, "some guy in the J section is pushing Brimstone," which completed killed my good mood as I started scanning the parts of the crowd I could see from the wing, trying to remember where section J was.

"Are you sure?" Ivy asked, coming from the backstage area silently to stand right beside me. It was dim compared to the bright lights that illuminated the stage and unusually silent since Takata was in between songs and the audience was hushed in anticipation.

"Tink's little green titties! Of course I'm sure. The guy stinks like a fairy rolled in frog crap." Jenks nearly shouted, and I hoped it wasn't audible to the musicians on stage.

We hadn't planned on anything this serious, and I was wishing I had thought to bring my FIB standard cuffs with me as I tried to think of a plan, knowing Jenks's sharp senses could find the guy again even if the crowd was an unmanageable mass to my eyes. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to think of the issue at hand and not the closeness in the shadows of the wings and the mix of dust and velvet from the curtains that seemed to accentuate Ivy's rich vampiric scent of ash and incense. Suddenly I felt hot, and I glanced uncertainly at Ivy.

"I'll take care of it," Ivy said, moving away just as quickly as she had appeared.

"Wait, don't you want help?" I asked, flushing when she shook her head and disappeared backstage.

"Don't worry about it Rache, she just probably wants to make a purchase before she busts his ass," Jenks cackled.

"I doubt it, Jenks." I said, trying not to be too concerned. I knew Ivy could handle herself, but her sudden withdrawal had me worried that she had sensed my distracting emotions faster than I had processed them.

I turned suddenly, having caught movement from the corner of my eye. I smiled slowly and tapped my earring gently, hurling Jenks into the air.

"What the hell was that for?" Jenks sputtered, his wings buzzing with irritation.

"Why don't you go help her, make sure she finds the right guy and doesn't get lost by the "Leather Lady"stall?" I suggested.

Jenks caught sight of the familiar shadow as well, and with a salute, flew off laughing.

"How long have you been eavesdropping on us?" I demanded, putting my hands on my hips and glaring at the man who emerged slowly from the shadows and came to stand a safe eight feet in front of me.

"Long enough. Enjoying the concert?" Trent asked lightly, attempting to appear casual but I detected the tightness around his eyes and the slightest trembling in his hands before he noticed me watching and tucked his hands loosely behind his back. He was dressed down for the concert, but still looked like a young, powerful businessman. And he made it look good. I took him in from his spotless sneakers to his pale, perfectly touchable hair. No reason why I couldn't enjoy the eye-candy while I jerked him around. He raised his eyebrows questioningly at me, a slight smile quirking his lips, and I fought down a blush, realizing he had totally recognized I was checking him out.

"Um, it's fine. Why are you here?" I asked, embarrassed. He continued to grin, enjoying my awkwardness with him, and that pissed me off. "Hey!" I said suddenly, looking him up and down once more, and his smiled widened. "Where's your pass?" I asked sweetly, and the smile dropped from his face.

"You can't be serious."

"You bet your granny's purple knickers I am. I'm working security. And if you don't have a backstage pass, I'm going to throw your ass out of here," I said triumphantly, relishing his irritation and uncertainty.

"Rachel…" he began, but I cut him off, thoroughly enjoying having the upper hand, something that doesn't seem to happen nearly enough.

"Don't you 'Rachel' me, you snuck backstage and thought no one would call you on it because of who you are. Well, I'll drag you out of here by your oh-so-pointy ears like a common drunk."

"Will you just be quiet?" he exclaimed, his usual cool and beautifully melodious voice loud and spiked with frustration, and I grinned all the wider.

"Why? So you can sneak back into the shadows? You are such a…" he moved quickly, and it took me by surprise, leaving me stupidly frozen in place while he closed the distance between us and pulled me towards him, effectively silencing my berating with his mouth on mine. The softness of his lips contrasted with the force of his hands, holding me to him, and I was too surprised to do much of anything as he kissed me.

"…manipulative bastard," I finished lamely when his lips released mine, willing myself to pull away from him, but the look in his eyes and the warmth of his body kept me motionless.

"Why do you have to be so difficult?" he asked quietly, still holding me to him, but less harshly. With only a moment's hesitation, he buried his face in my hair, his body relaxing against mine as he breathed in my scent.

"Why do you have to be such a jerk?" I mumbled back, attempting a step backwards, and he let me move, but moved with me instead of allowing a distance between us. A back curtain had come down so stagehands could move around the scenery and prep fresh instruments. My movement took us out of the wing, but the curtain safely blocked us from the eyes of the audience and the stagehands were too busy to notice yet another entwined couple while Takata was singing his remixed version of "Red Ribbons". Trent's attentions kept me from contemplating too seriously what had caused the rock star to redo his haunting classic as a slightly more hopeful, less tragic love song.

"Tell me truthfully that you feel nothing for me, and I'll leave," he whispered into my hair.

"Does annoyance count?" I joked, but the cold spreading in my chest and the clenching of my stomach wasn't swayed by my nonchalant tone.

"Rachel," he sighed, and I shuddered in his arms when one hand found a way up my shirt and curled around my waist, the other turned my face towards his for another kiss. I tried to figure out what the hell was going on, what the hell would make Trent act like this, if it could possibly be a trick to try and get me to work for him, but my train of thought was effectively derailed as the kiss became more, deeper, and my eyes fluttered closed as I opened my mouth for him. His arms clasped me to him, and I forgot my fear and frustration as my arms rose to embrace him back. He had said he wanted to be more, and I could see the possibilities, see what we could be, together, in each other arms.

I froze, his hands still on my skin, his mouth to mine. The music had stopped, the hush of the crowd was uncanny, and I couldn't help wonder what Takata was up to on stage. But I wasn't curious enough to pull away from Trent's busy hands, his warm, demanding lips and tentatively exploring tongue, and his comforting, spicy smell that was a combination of his cologne and his own unique scent.

But my curiosity was satisfied with the catcalls and "oooohhhhings" of a great multitude. I felt lights on me, and when Trent pulled away suddenly, I blinked dumbly at the screaming crowd, blushing uncontrollably. The curtains separating the main stage from the back area had lifted, and everyone seemed to have forgotten the concert in order to watch us, even the band. Ripley, the drummer, was hunched over her kit and laughing hysterically, causing me to turn even redder.

"Get off my daughter!" I heard someone scream, and my gut dropped when I realized there was only one living man who would say that and he had just shouted it into the microphone before an amphitheatre filled with thousands. The reverberation on sound system nearly masked the shouting of the crowd, and I realized I could be even more mortified when Takata knocked over the microphone and came storming towards us. He looked positively frightening with his livid face and orange attire.

I ducked back into the wings, ignoring the look from the sound guy and wondering if I should find a big enough rock to bury myself underneath or just drop dead on the spot. It took a moment for me to realize Trent was still frozen on stage, and I quickly emerged from the wings, much to the elation of the roaring crowd, to pull him back by the elbow before Takata could reach him. But Takata was right behind us and once we were safely hidden from the eyes of the crowd, I stopped suddenly, determined not to run and hide from him like a kid caught misbehaving.

"Donald, what the hell is your problem?" I said, very conscious of the attention of everyone backstage.

"Donald?" Trent said incredulously, then stepped back hastily when Takata reached for him.

I moved to stand between Takata and Trent, and Takata rocked back onto his heels and settled for pointing a shaking finger instead. "You keep your damned, dirty hands off my daughter or you'll need all your scientists and medical experts to find and remove my bass from way up in your…"

"It's none of your business," I interrupted, utterly exasperated when I heard the laughter of the band over the escalating chanting of the crowd. I felt myself flush for the third time in thirty seconds when I realized what they were chanting.

"It's very much my business," Takata sputtered.

"You don't have any say in my life, Donald, especially if you're going to act like an overprotective jerk," I hissed, trying to ignore the flashing of a cell phone camera as one of the stagehands got himself a little souvenir.

"Sa'han? If you are quite through, the car is waiting out front," Jonathan said through a strained smile and I turned to glare at the freakishly tall, loathsome elf who had managed to move up right alongside Trent without me noticing.

"Yeah, get the hell out of here, Trent," Takata said and I sighed in exasperation when Trent smiled apologetically at me and turned to follow Jonathan out.

"Thanks a lot, Donald," I said.

"Um, yeah, Donald. We do need you back on stage," Ripley said as she peeked at us from around the corner, the wide grin on her face saying she had been watching the whole thing.

"Yeah, I'll be right there," Takata said awkwardly, and I dodged the hand that tried to settle on my shoulder. "Rachel," he said as I headed towards the exit, wondering if Ivy and Jenks had busted the dealer yet.

"He's no good for you," I heard him call out to me, and I kept walking, wiping away a few angry, frustrated tears that had managed to leak out despite my best efforts. A few months ago I would have agreed. But now I wasn't so damn sure.

End

And do you know what the crowd was screaming at those two lovebirds entwined on stage?

"TRENCH! TRENCH! TRENCH! TRENCH!"

…I guess all the ravenous Ravy fans went home early.


End file.
